


Twice

by TheVeryLastValkyrie



Series: And They Fell Like Dominoes [8]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Drabble Collection, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 21:50:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4035808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVeryLastValkyrie/pseuds/TheVeryLastValkyrie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of a filthy rich boy and a clever dick girl at one of the world's most prestigious universities; of cheap wine and red plush; of betrayal, and bad blood, and her reading glasses. This time, he lets her have it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twice

**Author's Note:**

> Migrated from my Tumblr. Here be F words, and a lot of other words besides.

There’s a lot of blood coming out of Thomas’ nose. Half of it comes courtesy of cocaine, the reason he snorts periodically, tossing his head and his seraphic blond hair – half of it comes courtesy of his brother. Ollie regards him distastefully, knocked on his arse of the sticky floor of some snobby club, regards him from a higher place and a higher plane too. At least he knows he’s halfway to being an alcoholic and all the way to being a fucking idiot. Tom may never realise quite how jealous he is of his buttoned-down, stitched-up, honourable-to-the-hilt elder brother; he’s beautiful, so it doesn’t compute.

Ollie cradles his right fist in his left hand and fights the urge to pound Tom past the point of screaming.

“Athos!” Constance is pulling on his sleeve, God bless her. She shouldn’t be here. She doesn’t belong here, sticking out amongst girls wearing sequinned mini-dresses at three in the afternoon. There’s an Arabella, an Isabella, a Rosie, and they’re all eyeing him like they’re thirsty now Thomas is on the floor and out of the picture.

“I would ask _why_ you did it,” says Ollie, rather reasonably, as if he hasn’t just smashed his brother’s face in. “But I know why. Annie was mine, and anything I can have, you can have twice in the same night. You do realise coercing someone into sleeping with you is tantamount to rape, yes?” What a word. What an ugly, ugly word.

So he grinds his heel into the fingers of Tom’s right hand, because together, they did that to her.

“And I played right into your hands, didn’t I? She came to me looking for absolution, and I –” Forgot she was heaven would probably be accurate. She _is_ heaven, but she’s also marrying a duke who has some interesting acquaintances in the desert, a duke who likes making things explode in his spare time (oh, the possibilities). “How long did it last, little brother? How long did _you_ last? Was it about her while you were doing her, or was thinking about fucking me over enough to get you off? The least you could’ve done,” he continues, removing his foot. “Is debased her for her.”

Thomas bares his teeth: white, straight, perfect. He’s smiling, letting his eyes wander up the length of Constance’s purple tights. “She wanted it.” That’s his attempt at twisting the knife, at tying a knot in Ollie, who works for Queen, country and conceivably God the Almighty these days. “Wish I’d filmed it for you, Ol, majorly wish I’d filmed it. Majorly wish you could’ve heard her moan.”

They look nothing like each other but, as luck would have it, they provide the kind of symmetry that Constance – as an online cupcake supremo in need of accommodation, accidentally-on-purpose thrust into a world where attractive men keep asking her whether she fancies a weekend in Nice and d’Artagnan seems to wander into the bathroom every time she’s touching up her lipstick – can appreciate. Ollie drops to his knees, heedless of trousers which were not tailored that way, wraps his hand around Tom’s throat. Constance squeaks but, being male, neither of them are listening.

“I’d kill you,” her housemate promises, and he seems absolutely sincere. “But I want to give her the opportunity to joint you like a piece of meat, you piece of shit. The only reason I haven’t arrested you for dealing drugs or insider trading is because Constance has a delivery to make, and because Annie gets to gut you.” The shutters come down behind his eyes, grey like the river, like the cold afternoon. “That’s hers.”

One of the Arabellas flicks a glance Constance, who makes a ‘ _what?_ ’ face back. Thomas snorts, struggles in his brother’s grip.

“She’s not like us, Ol.”

“ _I’m_ not like you,” Ollie replies, and knocks him out cold with a punch to the jaw.


End file.
